[Verse 1: Phonte]
 Yo, the spirit in the sky scream homicide
 But it was time to ride on some niggas funny talking
 If too much money talking
 We make em economize
 Real rap – no tails spinning, such is the life of a
 Kam-I-Ka-Ze pilot
 We wylin out of control until we all make the funny papers [bad word] Con
 Feared in all streets so, if you ever see me out in y’all streets
 Find another one to occupy
 I never hope for the best
 I wish a [bad word] would
 Turn around and walk away
 I wish a [bad word] could
 Listen to my instincts and say [bad word] the rest
 But once you’ve had the best better ain’t as good
 Weak-heartedness cannot be involved
 Stick to the script [bad word] [bad word] your improv
 Like the samurai
 The street’s Hammurabi Code
 Play your part shut the [bad word] up and do as I was told

 [Hook #1]
 I was always late for the bus
 Just once can I be on time
 Then I start to think what’s [bad word]  Who wants to be on time
 Feeling unlucky and if I ever got lucky it was one time
 In this crazy world

 [Verse 2: Black Thought]
 Not a thing I fear besides fear itself
 This is clearly a lesson learned for someone else
 Reach for the crown of thorns upon the shelf
 Cross around my neck
 I’ve been taught by stealth
 Capture this moment in time… it’s a smash and grab
 And where my party people y’all finna have a blast
 You say goodbye… I say hello first and last
 Hello-Hello… Now all of y’all elevate your glass
 To an example of what time will do to you
 When those nameless things just keep on eluding you
 When [bad word] is new to you and lies is [bad word] to you
 Words of [bad word] though to you
 Man, I guess if I was ever lucky it was one time
 Then I went missing looking for the sublime
 [bad word] stayed low left the ladder unclimbed
 Time after time, verse blank, the line unrhymed

 [Hook #2]
 You ever wonder what’s the big fuss..
 For everyone be on time
 What’s the big deal, why do they feel
 The need to have us marching on line
 Feeling unlucky and if I’d ever got lucky it was one time
 In this crazy world

 [Verse 3: Dice Raw]
 I wonder when you die do you hear harps and bagpipes
 If you born on the other side of the crack pipe
 Niggas learn math just to understand the crack price
 Then drive in head first like the jack knife
 Cause out here, yo you niggas can’t belly flop
 If you wanna make the noise inside your belly stop
 One time means being on the front line
 Being on the front line means ducking one time
 The pendulum swinging my way- couldn’t be more blind
 Niggas talk to the cops? Not even one time
 Cause we all going down just like the subprime
 Or a cheap [bad word] half gallon of Ballantine
 But hopping over gates to escape is sublime
 Then through the alley way and down to the sub line
 Tales from the streets
 life of high crime
 To make it to the bottom
 Such a high climb